


Sam Wesson: Patron Saint of Call Centers

by Chiefraz



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-10
Updated: 2014-08-10
Packaged: 2018-02-12 14:54:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 248
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2114151
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chiefraz/pseuds/Chiefraz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I work in a call center, yeah and there are days I wanna do what Sam Wesson did in "It's a Terrible Life"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sam Wesson: Patron Saint of Call Centers

The phone rang in its shill demanding voice from the corner of his desk. Needy, exacting and harder to please then any boss alive. The pry bar, on the other hand , was cool to the touch, the metal answer to all of lifes questions rolled up in one neat little iron resolution.

RINNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNG!

“Thank you for calling.” Whamp! The phone jumped a bit like a started gazelle. “How may I help you today?”

RINNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNG!

“Have you plugged in your device?” Whamp womp! The hand set flew off and lay next to the vampire bobble head.

Rrrrrrinnnnnnnggggg? 

“Have you tried to turn it off and on again?” Whapppppppppy whap!

The phone made one more pathetic noise and then fell into silence.

“Yeah bitch, you better shut up!”

WOMP! WOMP! WOMP! The telephone exploded into a mess of plastic missiles, chip boards and shards. The computer seemed to try to make itself look smaller as not to call attention and share it's cube mates' beat down.

“And the disc tray is NOT. A. CUPHOLDER!”

Whaappppppppppppy, Whaappppppppppppy Whap!

The call center 'prairie dogged' in stunned silence, eyes wide, mouths slack. 

“IS THERE ANY THING ELSE I CAN DO FOR YOU!!!!!!”

The phone was destroyed, the computer begging for mercy and the bobble head would agree to anything, just don't hurt me man!

“THANK YOU FOR CALLING AND HAVE A NICE DAY!” Sam Wesson tossed down the pry bar, then looked up, feeling better then he had in three weeks.

“I quit.”


End file.
